


figured on not figuring myself out

by heysteph



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who (2005), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Jessica Jones (TV), Takin' Over the Asylum
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, M/M, basically . shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 08:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19884907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heysteph/pseuds/heysteph
Summary: And suddenly, there's five Crowleys in the room. Or, Crowley and four people who have his face.





	figured on not figuring myself out

**Author's Note:**

> this is stupid wish fulfillment but that's what fanfictions for is it not? anyways take a shot every time someone interrupts someone else u WILL die
> 
> the title lyric is from g.i.n.a.s.f.s. by fall out boy :)
> 
> also i wrote this in one sitting from 3 am - 10 am so ....... make of that what you will in regards to the quality of this. at least it formatted in a way that's actually readable. don't you hate it when a fic has a really good summary but then you click on it and it's just one big wall of text that makes your head hurt? bummer. 
> 
> anyways. yeah. this is the first fic im publishing in a really long time so im excited! i would ask for a wahoo but i already gave myself one. self love.
> 
> thank you,  
> steph

While you might not notice them amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowds in Disneyworld, a certain angel and a certain demon were definitely not using their God-given miracle abilities to skip the line on Space Mountain. And then the ride after that, and the one after that, and they definitely didn't pop over to epcot to get fruity drinks in Mexico after that. 

Even if they did do that, which they didn't, it wouldn't matter because they were back in their hotel room now. 

Anyone who knew the pair would be able to point out exactly which room they were staying in- it was littered with books Aziraphale refused to leave in the bookshop alone for the span of their two-week holiday, the nightstand housed a heat lamp as well as a pile of stupid sunglasses, and the two suitcases in the room- one black, one tartan- were completely devoid of changes of clothes.

In their room, the pair began to get ready for bed. Aziraphale preferred a one-step miracle based night routine, while Crowley was more up to imitating humans in this respect. He made his way to the bathroom and put on some music before hopping into the shower.

Aziraphale could hear it through the thin hotel wall. It was some of that 'emotional' music Crowley had taken a liking to in the past couple years. Aziraphale couldn't say that he enjoyed it, but he did find his head bopping to Cobra Starship every once and a while and-

is this the real life?  
is this just fantasy?  
caught in a landslide,  
no escape from reality?

Ah, Aziraphale pondered, even when Crowley moved all his music from physical CDS and cassettes to his phone, it still found a way to become Queen. Sometimes Aziraphale thought this must have been a modern interpretation of the whole 'dust-you-shall-eat-all-the-days-of-your-life' thing, but instead of dust it's Queen. He liked to think the Almighty had a sense of humour.

Before he knew it, Crowley was miracle-ing pajamas into existence and slithering into bed next to Aziraphale with a fond look on his face. His hair was wet, and his eyes were exposed, and Aziraphale could simply not take his eyes off of him because he was so goddamn beautiful laying there like that.

And suddenly, sometime during 1994, a 19-year-old mental patient wearing a tie-dye sweater missed his drug round on account of the fact of being teleported into the future and across the Atlantic ocean.

And suddenly, in 2013, a bearded Scottish police detective is late to a meeting on account of the same fact.

And it happens again, to a 900-year-old alien man with sideburns and a long brown coat, and again to a weird psychopathic incel from another universe.

And suddenly, there's five Crowleys in the room. Or, Crowley and four people who have his face.

Silence.

"I think I'm gonna have to get Isabel to increase my dose." The young scottish one with the 90’s haircut says. No one could tell if he was joking or not.

He continues talking. "You know, I don't think hallucinations are supposed to be a symptom of bipolar disorder but there's a first time for everything, you know what I mean?"

"I don't think this is a hallucination if we can all see each other." The serious-looking one in the suit and tie said.

"That is EXACTLY what a hallucination would say." He countered back.

"He's got you there." Crowley said helpfully.

"Well, Scottish-bearded-me is right. I know I'm not a hallucination, and how likely would it be for hallucinations to become self aware like that? Kind of defeats the point." The strange one in the pinstripe suit said.

"And it's kind of selfish of you to assume that we would be figments of your imagination, like-" The menacing one in the purple suit is interrupted by a whirring sound behind him. He turns around to see the aforementioned strange one pointing a glowing stick at him.

"Put that thing down." He demands, but it just keeps whirring for a few more seconds.

"Oi, do manners not exist in your universe?" Pinstripe says.

"Manners? You haven't even introduced yourself and you start pointing your weird stick at me!"

"There's no need to raise your voice-" Crowley begins, but is interrupted.

"I'm the Doctor." He says with a smile.

"Doctor… who?" suit-and-tie says.

Crowley could have sworn him mutter a little "yes!" before answering. "Just The Doctor. Usually I save this speech for later but seeing the circumstances, I should probably explain. I’m a 900-year-old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the constellati-”

“Yeah, we don’t need to know your life story.” suit-and-tie interrupted. “You seem knowledgeable enough, though. Can you explain why you have my face?” 

“And why we all got teleported into this hotel room?” the young one added.

“No idea. All I've gathered so far is that purple-suit-guy is from another universe.” The Doctor said and shrugged.

“You figured that out just by pointing a glowing stick at him?” The young one said, bewildered. The Doctor nodded.

“Maybe we should all introduce ourselves and try to figure this out?” Crowley said, once again trying to be helpful. “I’m Crowley.”

“Just Crowley?” Purple-suit-guy says.

“Look, we have one guy who’s just ‘The Doctor’ I think if we question everyone’s name we’re gonna be here for a while.” suit-and-tie says, exasperated.

“Well, you can call me Kilgrave.” purple-suit-guy says after a pause, a bit disgruntled. It seems like he isn't used to people talking to him like this.

“Oh, you’re gonna question my name when your name is Kilgrave? What are you, some kind of super villain?” Crowley said.

“It could be a family name, Crowley! Don’t be rude.” Aziraphale speaks up from behind Crowley on the bed. It seemed like the others hadn’t even noticed him until he said something.

“And who might you be?” suit-and-tie said, even though he had failed to introduce himself too.

“Oh, uh, my name’s Aziraphale. And I don’t really know why there are five of you here right now either, so please don’t ask me.”

There was a pause after that. Then: “That leaves two more.” The Doctor narrated, eyeing the two unidentified people, the two scottish ones. 

“Oh, I’m Campbell. Campbell Bain. Sorry if I seem out of it I’m kind of freaking out right now. I mean it’s not like everyday you get teleported into a room with four other people that look exactly like you but are English and one of them is an alien or something and they all have weird names and you know what that probably is normal for some of the people i kno-”

“DI Alec Hardy.” suit-and-tie said, deadpan.

“So, there's The Doctor, who looks like me but has sideburns and a pinstripe suit and is an alien or something. And then there’s uh… Kilgrave, was it? Who’s got the purple suit and no manners and also looks like me. And Campbell, who’s got a gob and looks like me but younger and scottish for some reason. And DI Hardy, who looks like me but bearded and also scottish and no fun.” Crowley summarized. “We can work together, right?”

Campbell and The Doctor nod. They both have that childish glint in their eye. The other two do noncommittal gestures of agreement.

“Let’s lay the groundwork,” The Doctor said. “Where are we?”

“Oh, I know that one. Disneyworld. Me and Aziraphale are on holiday.” Crowley explained,

“That’s interesting- we’ve been summoned to you. What year?” The Doctor pried further.

“Uh, 2019?”

“Okay.” The Doctor pondered.

“And you don’t know why we’ve all been summoned to you specifically, Mr. Crowley?” Hardy said, entering interrogation mode.

“Absolutely no idea,” He said, then paused to think for a bit. “Well, actually, now that I think about it, it’s not that odd for things to be summoned to me.”

“What do you mean?” Hardy asked in return.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain but basically- I’m a demon. And I can perform miracles like-” He brings his hand up in a snap, and suddenly The Doctor’s weird glowing stick is in his hand. “-so I guess that’s summoning, right? But I don’t see how that could be connected to this. I do it all the time. I miracled on some pajamas not five minutes ago.”

“Hm.” Alec furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin like a cartoon, thinking about the present information.

“You’re just not going to question the demon thing?” Kilgrave inserted himself into the conversation.

“You’re really going to question it after we all got teleported into a room with four other people that look exactly alike, and sideburns over there said he was an alien, and your name is KILL-GRAVE.” Hardy said.

Kilgrave just ticks in annoyance.

“So, have you ever summoned people before, Crowley, or is it just objects and the like?” Hardy continues his investigation, choosing to ignore the interruption.

“I mean. Probably.” Crowley said. “Most of the time my miracles are pretty absent-minded, though? Like if I stumble into my flat, and I need to turn the light on, I don’t really think about it, it just happens. But I guess I would know if I had summoned someone before, because they would probably make a fuss about it like you lot are doing now. So… no.”

“You could say Adam summons things, could you not?” Aziraphale said to Crowley. Not in the tone of an interrogation, but of old friends have a philosophical discussion over brunch or something.

“Yes, you could say that. Adam quite literally summoned the Horsemen by what was written, but he also summons things into existence every day just by thinking about it, like the aliens and the monks and stuff. I don’t see why this would be Adam’s doing, though, angel.” Crowley said in reply, like this was common knowledge to everyone in the room.

“Who’s Adam?” Hardy asked.

“The Antichrist. It’s a long story.” Crowley dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

“You said that your miracles are absent-minded. So, could you have subconsciously summoned us somehow? And don’t know why?” The Doctor proposed.

“That’s unlikely. A miracle like I mentioned before, like switching on a light switch, doesn’t use much energy because it’s only manipulating a small part of existence but… bigger miracles… (He’s specifically thinking back to all the times he’s stopped time, the time he literally deposited himself and two people into a different plane of existence, and the bodyswap)... they take a lot more out of me. So, I would’ve had to concentrate really hard to get all of you in here the way you did.”

Hardy and The Doctor both nod.

There’s another pause as the five characters in the room try to think of what to do next.

The Doctor breaks the silence. “Can I have my sonic screwdriver back- thank you.” He said as Crowley handed it to him. Their hands brushed against each others for less than a second and Crowley felt something.

“Doctor, I understand that this is probably a personal question, but why have you got two heart beats?” Crowley said.

“Oh, it’s an alien thing.” The Doctor explained. No one said anything about it again.

It’s like John Mulaney said, Adult Life was Already So Goddamn Weird.

“Maybe we should figure out why we all have the same face.” Campbell suggested. “Maybe that could be a clue.”

“Well, I was born this way.” Kilgrave replied. Hardy nodded.

“I’ve had this face since I was first manifested a looong, looong time ago so… that would make me the original.” Crowley said nonchalantly.

“Maybe that’s why we came to you?” The Doctor suggested.

“How long ago?” Kilgrave pried.

“Oh, God,” Crowley said. “Uhh… let’s just say a long time. I was at The Garden.”

“‘The Garden’ is that like ‘The Doctor’? You can’t just put ‘The’ in front of something and expect people to know what you’re talking about.” Kilgrave countered.

“You know what I’m talking about, though.” Crowley said. “THE Garden. Like the BIBLICAL Garden.” He gestured to his bright yellow unblinking snake eyes that everyone had failed to mention up to this point.

“Is that what the heat lamp is for?” The Doctor asked, curious.

Crowley nodded.

“Well, I'm stumped. About all of this.” Campbell said. “I’m missing my cocoa right now, you know. They do hot cocoa every day at this time at my mental ward. Oh… now I want cocoa.” He started off again. Campbell didn’t usually run his mouth like this unless he was what he called ‘inspired’, but he happened to be in a very stressful situation and this was his coping mechanism at the moment.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with that softness. He looked away, blushing, something unsaid between them- and suddenly, there was a mug of hot cocoa in Aziraphale’s hand. He gave it to Campbell.

“Oh, oh. Thank you!” Campbell said.

“You can perform miracles as well, Mr. Aziraphale?” Hardy said. Aziraphale nodded.

“Well, obviously.” Kilgrave began, “They’re both demons! Only a demon would wear 19th century tartan underwear.” He said, half-joking.

“You’ve got it wrong, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale explained. “You see, I am an angel.” He said with much more conviction than Crowley explaining that he was a demon. Angels tended to be a bit more secure about that, having to go around do-not-be-afraid-ing all the time.

“This is a bit of Romeo & Juliet story, isn’t it?” Kilgrave observed.

“We actually inspired Bill to write that one, actually.” Crowley hopped off of the bed and knelt on the hotel carpet floor, looking up at Aziraphale. “Aziraphale, Aziraphale, wherefore art thou Aziraphale? Deny thy Mother and refuse thy Choir… Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a demonic entity.” He smiled cheekily.

“Why do you get to be Juliet?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley was about to answer when he was interrupted again.

“It is not the time for this.” Hardy said in his deadpan no-fun scottish voice. Crowley swore he could hear Kilgrave mutter “We get it you have a healthy two-sided relationship that’s mutually beneficial and not motivated by stalker-ish tendencies or the trauma you experienced as a child…” Which was definitely baggage he didn’t want to have to know about.

Hardy got right back to investigating. “Mr. Aziraphale, is there any way that you could have summoned us somehow, assuming your miracles work the same as Mr. Crowley’s?”

“They do work pretty much the same. But like Crowley said, performing a miracle of this calibre is not possible to do unconsciously, unless under special circumstances.”

“Like what?” The Doctor said.

“Well, I don’t know.” Aziraphale said. “I mean, anything is possible, really. I wouldn’t be able to explain the way things happen sometimes-”

“Don’t say it.” Crowley begged.

“It’s ineffable.” Aziraphale concluded. He pointed upwards. “All part of the Ineffable Plan.”

Most of the people in the room were not ready to think about the implications of God being real so they just didn’t ask.

“So, this ineffability… sounds like weird stuff happens in your life a lot with no explanation, I presume.” The Doctor said.

“Well, that’s kind of the point of ineffability. You’re not really supposed to question the Ineffable Plan, or ask for an explanation, though, that’s why it’s… ineffable... it’s kind of a big no-no…” He chuckled nervously without looking at Crowley because he knew what Crowley was thinking: in the words of John Mulaney, No! That’s The Thing I’m Sensitive About!

Crowley didn’t say anything about it. “But yeah,” He said. “Weird shit happens to us all the time. We diverted armageddon like a month ago. Every single album I download becomes Best of Queen after two weeks- which is unrelated to the first bit.”

“That’s kind of why we’re on holiday? Armageddon, I mean.” Aziraphale interjected. “If you wanted to know why. Because we kind of got in quite a lot of trouble for stopping the apocalypse, and our respective head offices were not too happy about it. We’ve been… laid off, I suppose. Because we tricked them into thinking that we couldn’t be killed, so now they’re scared of us? It’s a long story.”

“That might be connected to this.” Hardy thought. “This is a new experience for you, right? It might be a precedent for a big miracle like this. I don’t know, though.”

“That is definitely possible,” Crowley said, not elaborating. He was clearly uncomfortable after what Aziraphale said about ineffability and all that.

“You know,” Campbell said, with an unreadable expression, “If we got miracled here, why can’t you just miracle us back to where we were?”

Crowley’s brow furrowed, like he hadn’t thought of that. “I… could do that.”

“But then we’d never know why this happened.” The Doctor said.

“It’s better than being stuck in a hotel room with four versions of yourself.” Kilgrave says grimly.

They all nod in unison. They wanted to go back to their own stories and lives, this whole situation was just too cathartic.

“It was nice meeting you all.” Crowley said, and then with all of the power in him, bestowed by God herself, he raised his hands and then, it was only he and Aziraphale again, like the others were never there.

A pause.

“That was odd.” Aziraphale observed.

“Yes.” Crowley agreed. “I do wonder what that was about.”

Then suddenly, Crowley’s vision flooding with pure blinding light.

CROWLEY, YOU ARE SO CURIOUS.

I MADE YOU THAT WAY.

It was Her.

IF YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW, IT WAS AZIRAPHALE.

HIS OVERWHELMING LOVE FOR YOU IN THAT MOMENT ACCIDENTALLY OPENED A RIFT IN TIME AND SPACE.

What moment? Crowley managed to choke out, not talking but not thinking either- direct communication with Her.

WHEN YOU GOT INTO BED AND SNUGGLED UP NEXT TO HIM.

Oh. Crowley realized.

HE LOVES YOU VERY MUCH.

ALSO, FLORIDA IS JUST KIND OF SHAKY WHEN IT COMES TO DIMENSIONAL PLANES. 

GOOD LUCK, CROWLEY.

And She was gone. But Her eternal warmth never left the room, because Crowley had Aziraphale.

They enjoyed the rest of their holiday. And the four other people? In the words of John Mulaney, they went back to their lives feeling… Different.

**Author's Note:**

> dont know how to do the footnote thing but: when aziraphale is thinking about crowley's music taste and says that he sometimes bops his head to cobra starship? he's lying. he goes feral for a little bit of that electronic dance pop magic. his favorite cobra song is world's oldest profession but don't tell gabriel that


End file.
